Obsessed: Fatal Attraction 2 (novelization of the movie)
by Patrick Colin Jackson
Summary: In David Loughery's 2009 non-sequel to the classic 1987 nail-biter, another happily-married man gets hit on by another love-struck psycho who's determined that nobody will stand between them...and that means NOBODY. This novelization maintains the movie's interracial twist while adding some others...


Obsessed: Fatal Attraction 2

A novel by Khaos Junior

Based on the screenplay by David Loughery

It was early morning in the Hollywood Hills.

The house was a two-story California Craftsman. There was a SOLD sign in the front yard.

A Yukon SUV pulled into the drive and stopped.

The driver's door opened and Derek Charles stepped out. A handsome and likeable African-American in his early 30's, he was a proud homosexual man who had fought hard and long to make himself a success—both in business and in life.

Wearing a three-piece suit, Derek crossed the lawn to the SOLD sign. With a new homeowner's look of satisfaction, he gripped the sign and pulled it out of the ground.

"Derek?"

He looked over to where his cute Puerto Rican husband, Kyle Montana, was standing beside the SUV—holding Tomoe Aizu, their pretty 2-year-old adopted Japanese daughter, in his arms.

Kyle shook his head with amusement. "What are you going to do with that?"

{}

Minutes later, the SOLD sign was in pieces—and burning brightly in the living room fireplace. On the far side of the otherwise-empty room, Tommi was asleep in her stroller.

Derek and Kyle were in the otherwise-vacant master bedroom upstairs. "This is coming down," Kyle said.

"Why?"

"Do you want people to think _we_ put it up?"

"I don't know," Derek chuckled softly. "I kind of like it."

"Please tell me you're joking."

Derek and Kyle stared up at their own reflections in the huge ceiling mirror.

Derek went on, "All I'm saying, before we take it down…maybe we should try it out. You know. Christen the new house," he added playfully.

"And what do you suggest we use for a bed?"

"What do we need a bed for, when we've got a fine shag carpet?"

Kyle laughed. "Because I'm gonna have fine shag carpet tattoos all over my—"

Derek put his arms around Kyle's waist and pulled him close. Kyle resisted—but only slightly.

"Shouldn't you be going to work?" Kyle asked.

Derek nuzzled Kyle's neck. "I told them I'd be late."

"What about Tommi?"

Derek scoffed. "That girl wouldn't wake up if a nuclear bomb went off."

"Maybe not, but the movers…"

"They won't be here for another hour."

Kyle smiled, giving in. He and Derek looked up at themselves in the mirror like naughty teenagers.

"Derek, you are so bad."

"Isn't that why you married me?"

They began to kiss passionately.

"No. It's why I'm _glad_ I married you."

Minutes later, the mirror's reflection was filled with distorted images of Derek and Kyle…their naked bodies intertwined, making love on the carpet while NWA's **I'd Rather F- You** boomed from Kyle's ghetto-blaster across the room.

In the living room, Tommi continued to snooze in her stroller. Outside the window, a moving van arrived and blew its horn.

{}

Kyle was drowsing in Derek's arms. They stirred at the sound of the horn.

"What me to stay?" Derek asked. "Crack the whip on these guys?"

"No. Go to work and earn that promotion. Somebody's got to pay for all this."

They shared a quick kiss. Then Kyle swung over to find his clothes.

As Kyle dressed, Derek stared up at himself and smiled with satisfaction. Life was good.

{}

Movers brought in furniture, placing a big glass table in the dining room area below the stairs.

Nearby, Kyle opened a box and removed family pictures. He arranged them, with loving care, on the mantle above the fireplace. Framed photos illustrated the history of Derek and Kyle's happy family: their early dating days; their Las Vegas wedding (being gay, they'd eloped to the City of Sin, and had their ceremony performed by a Michael Jackson impersonator); Tommi on her last day at the orphanage…and on the first with both her new dads.

{}

In the Yukon, a picture of Kyle and Tommi smiled at Derek from the dash, as he drove the freeway toward the skyscrapers of downtown. He listened to the stock and financial report. Then he switched over to the CD player, and Gnarls Barkley's "Gone Daddy Gone" blared out. As that track ended and the next one began, Derek's Yukon entered the parking garage of a towering glass-and-steel office building.

Minutes later, Derek and several others rode an elevator up from the parking garage. Derek scanned the Business page of a folded newspaper. As the elevator stopped on the ground floor, the doors slid open and more people got on. Then the doors shut and the elevator ascended. At other floors, people got on and off…until it was just Derek and one other passenger.

The other passenger, Basil Sheridan, was balancing an armload of thick files. He was in his mid-twenties, white and gorgeous. His glasses and hair projected an efficient, smart and sophisticated look. Basil's inexpensive suit accentuated a great pair of buns which would have made any gay man's privates twitch.

Basil glanced over at Derek, intrigued. "Gage and Bendix?" he asked.

Derek looked up from his paper with a distracted smile. "Excuse me?"

"I couldn't help but notice we're both going to Seven."

"Right. Gage and Bendix. I work there."

"I thought you might," Basil said.

"Do you have an appointment with us?"

"Why? Do I look like a client?"

"Actually, you do," Derek answered.

Basil emitted a pleasant laugh. "Well, I hate to shatter the illusion, but I'm just a lowly temp."

Derek was genuinely surprised. " _You're_ a temp?"

"Just here for the day."

"Well, you could have fooled me."

Basil shifted on his feet. "I think these loafers were a big mistake."

Derek glanced down at Basil's package, which strained the front of his dress slacks.

"I should have worn my track shoes," Basil went on. "They've got me running all over town picking up these disclosures—" That was when the pile in his arms slid south. The files fell to the floor and spread out in a mess. Basil laughed and dropped to his knees. "God, I'm such a klutz."

Derek bent down to help. Their hands touched briefly.

"No problem. Happen to anybody," he told Basil. They straightened up, looked at each other.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the sleek and vast offices of GAGE & BENDIX, ALTERNATIVE ASSET MANAGEMENT.

"Thanks. I owe you one," Basil said.

Derek navigated a warren of cubicles where staff workers attended phones and computers. Suddenly, he became aware that Basil was right behind him.

"Are you following me?" he asked Basil with humor.

"No. I'm taking these files to Mr. Charles's office. They said it was this way."

" _Derek_ Charles?"

"I guess you probably know him," Basil said.

Derek nodded and then lowered his voice. "Kind of an asshole, takes himself _way_ too seriously. But don't tell him I said that. It could get me into _deep_ trouble."

They approached a desk where Derek's assistant Patricia—a mild-looking woman in her late 30's—looked up and smiled. Across from Patricia was another desk and another assistant, middle-aged Marge.

"Morning, Derek," Patricia said. "How's the new house?"

"Total chaos; lucky for me, I sneaked out as soon as the movers showed up."

Patricia grinned. "Kyle must have loved that."

"If he calls mad—and he _will_ —tell him I'm in a meeting," Derek said.

"Remember who used to sit at this desk?" Patricia asked. "Kyle will know I'm lying."

"Good point." Derek smiled.

As Derek vanished inside his office, Patricia chuckled—and then noticed Basil standing there with his armload of files.

"Can I help you?" Patricia asked Basil, who stared at Derek's office.

"That's _Derek_ Charles?" Basil asked Patricia, who nodded. The obviously-charmed Basil broke into a smile.

Patricia took amused notice of Basil's interest in Derek. "Watch it, boy. Derek's married," he teased.

"The good ones are always married."

"Yeah, or straight— _or_ _ **both**_ , right?" Patricia let out a dramatic sigh.

{}

Later, Derek sat at a long table in Gage & Bendix's meeting room. One wall of the room was glass, giving a view of the outer office activity.

Sitting at the table with Derek were two other proudly-gay men: Ben Talbot, his best friend and co-worker; Joe Gage, their silver-haired boss.

"Did you talk to our German friend?" Gage asked Derek.

"Hans Von Kleiner?" Derek asked Gage, who nodded. "Matter of fact, I just got off the line to Berlin."

"And…?" Gage leaned closer.

"Von Kleiner doesn't like how the Stock Market's been gyrating," Derek went on. "He thinks the hedge fund wave is about to crest."

Gage arched an eyebrow. "You think he's right?"

"Hell, I think he's at least 110% wrong. We haven't even gotten close to that point yet. Hedge fund demand is coming from individual investors, which is why it's gaining mainstream acceptance. You know Von Kleiner. He gets paranoid when anything goes mainstream. He started making _Auf Wiedersehen_ noises, but I talked him into a private equity portfolio instead…to the tune of $155 million."

"I _knew_ there was a reason I promoted you." Gage was pleased. "No offense, Ben."

"None taken, Joe," Ben responded. "I'm just honored to exist in Derek's world."

Derek looked over at Ben, who winked at him. The good-natured ribbing was part of their relationship.

"Good," Gage said. "I want you to throw Derek all your support on this one."

That was when Basil walked by on the other side of the glass.

Gage perked up. "Whose buns are those?"

"Never seen them before," Ben answered.

"I think he's one of the temps," Derek replied.

" _I_ think he puts the _temp_ in temptation…" Ben stared wolfishly at Basil.

"Remind me to call that agency and have them send over a couple more just like him." Gage looked ready to pounce on Basil and rip his clothes off, then and there. "Doesn't hurt to have a little eye candy around the office; does it, boys?"

Ben agreed—while Derek merely nodded, uncomfortable with their tone of homo-sexism.

{}

That evening, the workday ended. Workers were leaving the office. Derek passed Ben's open office door.

Ben stuck his head out. "I scored an extra Lakers ticked for tomorrow night. Think you can get free?"

"I'm moving into a new house," Derek answered.

"So?"

"Do I look like a man who wants a divorce?"

"I could call and say it's a work emergency," Ben said.

"Thanks, but I think I'll stay married instead."

Ben laughed. "Coward." He ducked back into his office.

Derek walked past a cubicle en route to the elevator.

"Good night, _Mister Charles_."

Derek stopped, turned, and saw Basil sitting at a computer station.

Basil smiled. "You _punk'd_ me."

"Sorry, but you set me up." Derek laughed.

Basil's response was humorous. "Don't worry. I'll get my revenge. By the way, you might like to know…Everybody who works here strongly disagrees with you."

"…About what?"

"About Derek Charles being an asshole. They all say he's the nicest guy in the firm."

"Well, that just proves he's got them all fooled," Derek replied.

"And he's humble, too. I'm Basil, by the way. Basil Sheridan."

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Sheridan. Good luck with your next job—" As Derek continued toward the elevator, Basil called after him.

"Actually, they're keeping me on a few more days. So I'll probably see you on Monday."

Unable to tell if Derek heard, Basil watched him go out of sight. Then, curious, Basil turned to his computer. He pulled up Derek's bio and picture on the company web site:

 **Derek Charles graduated from UCLA; financial major…Began his career with major Wall Street Brokerage firm before joining Gage & Bendix, working with clients to help them accomplish their investment objectives – from asset allocation and investment planning, pension analysis, etcetera. **

{}

That night, Tommi was asleep in her crib. Derek and Kyle looked down on her, smiling. Then they moved quietly toward the door. Before they could sneak out, Tommi let out a cry. Derek and Kyle looked at each other.

"Damn. We almost made it."

"Your turn," Kyle said.

Derek returned to the crib and picked up Tommi. "Hey, little lady; what's wrong? You should be…Uh oh, poop up the puss. Kyle…"

Kyle stood in the doorway. "I've been changing her all day." With a laugh, he left.

Derek carried Tommi over to the changing table, opened her diaper and turned away. "Whew. What's that man been feeding you?"

{}

Later that night, Derek and Kyle sat at a table on the outside deck – which overhung a sheer drop to the canyon below. In the distance, the Los Angeles basin sparkled like a diamond in the night.

Derek and Kyle were happy but exhausted. In front of them was an empty pizza box. Derek picked up a bottle of champagne, poured some for Kyle and himself. They were both drunk, and getting drunker.

"Well, we toasted the house—" Kyle slurred.

"Toasted Tommi—" Derek slurred back.

"Your promotion—" Kyle went on.

"But I've saved the most important toast for last…" Derek raised his glass. "To my gorgeous husband, who I love and adore more than anything in the world."

"And to my handsome husband," Kyle raised his glass. "I asked for the moon, and he gave me the stars." They clinked glasses and drank. "Derek…"

Derek yawned. "Uh-huh?"

"How would you feel about trying out that mirror again…This time in our own bed?"

Derek perked up. "Yeah? Give the magic mirror another test drive?"

"You know how I like looking at your sexy butt."

Derek laughed. "Kyle, you are so bad."

"Isn't that why you married me?"

"No. It's why I'm _glad_ I married you."

{}

The next morning at the office, Derek arrived to find Basil sitting at his outer desk in Patricia's place.

Basil looked up and smiled. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and his hair was styled – giving him a softer, less severe look.

"Hi. Remember me?"

"Basil Sheridan, Temp. Where's Patricia?"

"Out with the flu," Basil answered. "I did some trading with the other temps, wrangled your desk. I hope that's okay."

"Uh…Sure," Derek replied, looking over at Marge, outside the other corner office. "Hey, Marge," he greeted her.

"Good morning, Derek."

Derek turned back to the temp. "Grab your pad and follow me," he told Basil, going into his office. Basil collected his things and followed Derek.

Inside Derek's office, he went behind the desk as Basil entered and sat down on the couch. He crossed his legs…Those great legs.

"I put a memo on your desk about the Christmas party this Friday."

"Is it that time already?" Derek picked up the memo and scanned it.

"Why don't they invite spouses?"

"How's that?"

"To the Christmas party," Basil said. "It says, _for employees only_."

"It's like that in most companies. People are more inhibited in front of their spouses; they're less likely to kick back, and enjoy themselves, and mingle with co-workers, which is what the party's about."

"So does this party get pretty wild?"

"Just the opposite," Derek answered.

"Well, that's no fun." Basil indicated a container of Starbucks coffee. "I called Patricia. She said you like it black with two sugars."

Impressed, Derek opened the container.

"If it's cold," Basil continued, "I can run down and nuke it in the break room."

Derek took a sip. "No, it's perfect."

Pleased, Basil raised his pad and pencil. "Fire away."

"Well, it's Monday. And first thing on Monday…"

"I took care of that," Basil cut in. "On Mondays you always send your better half a dozen long-stemmed red roses."

Derek looked surprised.

"I called to confirm they've been delivered."

"Thanks," Derek said.

"I think that's incredibly sweet. How long have you two been married?"

"Three years in March."

"And you still send him flowers every Monday morning?" Basil asked. "There's one lucky guy."

"It's kind of a tradition."

"Patricia said you started sending them back when Kyle worked here as your assistant. Is that how you won his heart?"

"Well, it took a little more than roses." Then Derek got down to business. "We need to run some calls."

Basil poised himself. "Ready when you are."

Derek was amused. "Are you _always_ this efficient?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"Well, it's just that most of the temps we get here…"

"I think you'll find I'm not your typical temp," Basil cut in.

"No. Definitely not," Derek went on. "Okay, Mister _Not Your Typical Temp_ …Start with Phil Trendle at Emerson…Set up a lunch for the end of the week. Whatever he wants, but push the Water Grill. Then Terry Mills at Imagio—Am I going too fast for you?"

"No. Go faster. I can handle it."

{}

In the Charles kitchen, Kyle was feeding Tommi while talking on the phone to Derek.

"…It's a beautiful little park with a duck pond, and close enough to push Tommi," Kyle said.

{}

In his office, Derek listened to Kyle while going over reports.

"I've already met a dozen other guys with kids the same age," Kyle continued. "One of them, Laurence-something, asked if we'd like to come over for a barbecue on Saturday."

"I don't know. It's shaping up to be a work weekend."

Outside, at his desk, Basil eavesdropped on his headset…listening with interest.

"You can work at home and then we'll go to the barbecue," Kyle went on.

As Kyle chatted on, Derek got a weird feeling. Still on the phone, he slowly got up from his desk and moved quietly to the door. He looked out, expecting to catch Basil listening in. Basil wasn't even at his desk; instead, he was standing several feet away, at a file cabinet.

He turned and smiled at Derek. "Do you need me?"

Derek shook his head no and stepped back into his office.

{}

That night in the Charles master bedroom, Derek finished some work on his home computer.

Kyle sat in bed reading a book. "Work at the office. This is home. Come to bed."

"In a second—" Then Derek finished, rose, and walked over to the bed. He climbed in beside Kyle, who put his book on the night table and switched off the light.

As they cuddled together, Kyle chuckled. "The card that came today with the roses…It was addressed to _Alex_."

"Huh?"

"Who's Alex? Your _other_ husband, perchance?" Kyle asked with humor.

"Blame it on the new guy. Patricia called in sick and I had a temp on my desk."

"I thought we had a deal. No male assistants."

"Honey, I don't control the temp pool," Derek said.

"He's cuter than I am, isn't he?"

Derek gave Kyle a look.

"I'm just asking…"

"Yeah, he's cute…for a plain guy."

"I don't care. I want him fired immediately," Kyle half-joked.

"Actually, he did a great job…aside from the card."

As they got comfortable, Kyle put his head on Derek's chest. "Good night, Derek."

"Good night… _Alex_."

Kyle laughed and gave him a playful punch.

{}

The next day at the office, two delivery guys came out of the stairwell. They struggled with an undecorated Christmas tree. Marge showed them where to put it.

In Derek's office, he was entertaining a visit from Kyle. Tommi was on Derek's desk, playing with her dad's keys.

"Hope you don't mind us dropping in unannounced," Kyle said.

"Are you kidding? This is a treat."

"Sheila's meeting us for lunch at Central Market. Then I'm taking Tommi to the Grove." Kyle turned to his daughter. "And who are we going to see at the Grove?"

Tommi answered excitedly, "Santa!"

"You want to come?" Kyle asked Derek. "Get your picture taken on Santa's lap?"

"I'd love to, but I'm all jammed up. Say hi to your sister, though."

"That girl she was seeing, the one we met at Thanksgiving…Jackie."

"The one she said was perfect," Derek said.

"Apparently, Jackie's not so perfect. She told my sister she just wants to be FWB."

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"Friends With Benefits," Kyle explained. "You know…Sex, but no commitments."

"And Sheila's got a problem with that?"

Kyle laughed.

Basil appeared at the door. "Excuse me."

As Derek and Kyle turned, Basil smiled sweetly.

"Basil, this is my husband Kyle Montana. Kyle, Basil Sheridan. He's temping for Patricia."

"Hello, Basil." Kyle acted friendly, but while checking Basil out at the same time.

"It's great to meet you, Mr. Montana." Basil's eyes lit up. "And this must be Tommi. I can already tell she's going to be a heartbreaker when she grows up."

As Basil came over, Tommi pressed shyly against Derek.

"Hello, Tommi. I'm Basil."

Tommi smiled but didn't respond.

"Don't be rude, Tommi. Say hello," Derek said.

"She _can_ say hello," Kyle said. "She's usually not this shy around strangers. Young lady, say hello to Basil before I spank you."

Tommi gave Basil a friendly wave.

"What a pretty girl," Basil said to Derek. "She looks just like you, almost."

"Actually," Derek replied, "most people think she takes after Kyle."

"Talk about the perfect family," Basil went on. "The three of you should be on a magazine cover."

Kyle changed the subject. "I hope my husband's not working you too hard."

"He is," Basil answered cheerily. "But I like it. I'm learning a lot." He turned to Derek. "Joe Gage needs to see you, when you've got a minute."

"Well, that's our cue to leave. We just dropped in to say hi." Kyle took Tommi from Derek. "Come on, big girl."

Basil stepped back and moved off toward the door. "It was great to meet you, Kyle."

"And you too, Billy." Kyle winked at Derek, who smiled.

"That's _Basil,_ " Basil corrected.

"Excuse me?" Kyle asked.

"It's Basil, not Billy," Basil said.

"Did I call you that?" Kyle shrugged. "Beg your pardon, _Basil._ "

If Basil knew Kyle was messing with him, he didn't show it. He just waved. "Bye, Tommi. Say hi to Santa for me." With that, he retired.

"That was intentional," Derek said to Kyle.

"Wasn't me. Blame _Alex,_ " Kyle shrugged. "So what's the deal with _him?_ "

"What's the deal?"

"He knew I was taking Tommi to Santa. So he was obviously listening at the door."

"Well, he probably didn't know when to come in," Derek replied, "Or when _not_ to come in."

"I thought you said he was plain. Derek, that boy is a lot of things, but plain _isn't_ one of them."

"How would I know? I only have eyes for you."

Kyle laughed. "Oh, you are so slick."

"Come on. I'll walk you to the elevator. You can say hi to the old gang." Derek put Tommi in her stroller. "Ever miss it?"

"I like to think I traded up," Kyle answered.

Derek beamed. He and Kyle shared a kiss.

{}

In the elevator, Derek and Kyle and Tommi were surrounded by office workers, who made a fuss over Derek's husband and daughter. Even Joe Gage came out of his office to embrace Kyle, and to chat.

Basil watched from a distance. His face betrayed no emotion. After a moment, he turned and entered Derek's office.

Sitting behind Derek's desk, Basil gazed at a framed picture of Tommi and Kyle and Derek—the perfect happy family.

Nearby, Basil saw a pile of CD's. He looked through them and smiled with an idea.

{}

The next morning was a warm one, with a hot sun coming up. Derek drove his SUV to work, listening to Gnarls' _Crazy._

In the office, workers hung bulbs and decorations on the Christmas tree. A festive holiday spirit was in the air.

Derek exited the elevator and headed to his office. Patricia was back at her desk.

"Hey, Patricia," Derek said. "Feeling better?"

"Much. Thanks," she replied. "You know, it'll take more than the flu to keep me away from that Christmas party."

"Not sure we can say the same for Marge."

Derek turned toward the voice. It was Basil, now sitting at Marge's desk. "You get around, don't you?" he asked rhetorically.

"Poor thing called in with a fever," Basil answered.

"Yeah," Patricia cut in. "She's not speaking to me at the moment."

The three shared a laugh.

"Alright," Derek said at last. "You two behave yourselves out here."

As Derek went into his office, Patricia whispered to Basil, "So how many times did you get busted listening in on Derek's calls?"

Basil laughed lightly. "I'm way too devious to ever get caught. Besides, don't all of us assistants listen in?"

Patricia smiled. "Good point."

Basil decided he'd make a friend here. "How long have you worked here?" he asked Patricia?

"Two years this spring."

"I'll bet you know more about what goes on behind these closed doors than anybody."

"Oh, you got that right, boy. I know all the dirty little secrets," Patricia responded.

"Well, maybe we should grab a drink some night after work, for a little chat."

Lonely Patricia was flattered by Basil's interest. "Listen, honey, if you think you can buy my silence with a couple of Cosmo's—you're right."

They shared a laugh, bonding.

{}

The office was deserted at lunch hour. Derek, in shirtsleeves, emerged from his office and approached the Break Room. He entered, opened the refrigerator, and took out a lunch bag.

Derek heard a slight sniffling behind him. He turned and was surprised to find a tearful Basil seated at a corner table.

Basil looked up and quickly wiped his eyes with one hand, putting on an awkward smile. "Sorry; I thought everybody was at lunch." He rose. "I should go—"

"No. Stay," Derek said. "I was just gonna take this back to my office."

As Basil sat back down, Derek turned to leave—and then hesitated.

"Anything I can do to help?" he asked Basil. "I mean, if you want to talk about it…"

"It's nothing."

"Most people I know don't cry over nothing."

"You think I was crying?" Basil asked with humor. "This is just my allergies."

"Uh-huh. What are you allergic to?"

"People, apparently. Actually, it's more like they're allergic to _me._ "

"Boyfriend trouble, huh?" Derek asked.

Basil hesitated, wondering if he could—or should—confide. "It's stupid, really. This guy I've been seeing just calls and dumps me. Middle of the day, no warning, no explanation…Just _I don't think we should see each other anymore._ "

" _ **Ouch!**_ That's pretty cold. How long were you together?"

"Two months." Basil laughed. "Actually, it was one of my longer-lasting relationships. I don't know what it is, but sooner or later I just scare men off…I think there's something wrong with me."

Derek, shifting into big-brother mode, sat down and put a comforting hand on Basil's shoulder. "Nothing's wrong with _you._ Your boyfriend's a fool, that's all."

"I wish I could believe that."

"Maybe you just haven't met the right guy yet."

"I think all the good ones are taken," Basil said.

"Look, I'm no expert…but if it didn't work out, maybe it wasn't meant to be. When the right guy comes along, you'll know it."

Basil looked up at him and smiled. "Is that how it was with you and Kyle?"

"Actually, yeah, that's how it was. We both knew it pretty quick."

"Love at first sight?"

"It _does_ happen," Derek said.

"Great. Now I'm jealous."

"Why?"

"She's got it all," Basil said. "Perfect husband, perfect child, perfect marriage, perfect everything."

"Nobody's perfect. There are problems in every relationship. The important thing is to keep moving forward." Derek proceeded to buck Basil up. "Don't get down on yourself. You're a bright, attractive guy. Any gay man would be lucky to have you."

"Oh, yeah; right."

"No, really…If I was single—"

"But you're not," Basil said.

"I just meant…"

"I know. You're just trying to make me feel better." Basil touched Derek's hand, got up. "And you have. Thanks, Derek."

"Hang in there," Derek encouraged. "It'll happen."

Basil nodded, smiling, and exited.

The incident was forgotten as Derek opened his lunch bag and took out a sandwich.

Ben appeared in the doorway, grinning at Derek. "What was _that_ all about?"

"Poor kid got dumped by his boyfriend," Derek answered.

"Really…? I wouldn't mind taking up the slack. That is one hot piece of ass there; like you haven't noticed."

Derek was amused. "Hey, I'm a happily married man. And so are you."

"That doesn't mean we can't _look._ " Ben went to the refrigerator and opened it, then started rooting around. "Not like the old days, back when you could get away with a little office nookie on the side; now you get nailed for it." He turned and gave Derek a grin. "Don't give me that _I'm appalled_ look. That's how you got together with Kyle, isn't it?"

"Ben, if you're looking to start something with that boy…"

"You saw him first?"

"…Fuck off."

"Besides, I don't think I'm his type. Now _you_ , on the other hand…"

"Ben, do me a favor—"

"…All I'm saying is that a lot of single guys see the workplace as a hunting ground." Ben cocked his finger like a gun. "And this one's got you in the crosshairs." With a grin, he pulled the trigger _—Bang!—_ and then exited. Derek looked annoyed.

{}

Back in his office, Derek sat at his desk. He noticed an envelope with his name on it. When he opened the envelope, a note and a homemade CD slid out.

The note read, _Thanks for the shoulder. Thought you might like these. Basil._

Curious, Derek fed the CD into his computer. He lowered the volume and was hit with Gnarls Barkley in concert. Derek turned down the volume and smiled as he continued to listen.

Then he heard the ding of an IM on his computer. It was from TEMPBOY: **T'is the season to be Gnarly.**

Derek considered this, and then typed back: **Where did u find this?**

Tempboy's reply: **Concert bootleg; totally illegal. We could be arrested.**

Derek responded: **Worth the risk. I luv Gnarls.**

Tempboy's reply: **Me 2.**

Derek responded: **Thanx. Get back 2 work.**

Tempboy replied: **Gone daddy gone.**

Derek smiled, then went back to work himself.

{}

The next day, Kyle and Derek enjoyed breakfast at their kitchen table. Derek was feeding Tommi.

"On your way home, can you pick up those Baby Einstein DVD's for you-know-who?" Kyle asked.

"I'll have to do it tomorrow. Office party's tonight," Derek replied.

"I forgot. Well, take a cab if you drink too much, okay?"

"If it's anything like last year, I'll be home early." Then he turned to Tommi. "I know this looks gross and tastes worse, young lady, but I want you to eat all of it."

Tommi shook her head and pointed at the naked, undecorated Christmas tree which sat in the next room. "Santa!" she said.

"Yeah, Santa," Derek said. "And he's coming soon. So eat. You know Santa only brings rocks to kids who don't eat all their food?"

Tommi considered. Then she ate furiously, as Derek and Kyle laughed.

{}

Sitting at the restaurant's bar by himself, Derek read the paper. He looked up and saw Basil come in. Basil caught Derek's eye, surprised. Then Basil smiled and made his way over, gesturing to the empty stool next to Derek.

"This seat taken?" he asked Derek, who—always a good guy—shrugged.

"No. Be my guest," he answered Basil.

A half-hour later, Basil was still sitting next to Derek at the bar. Their food had come, and both were chowing down with a vengeance.

"Still the best burger in town," Derek said to Basil, who nodded in agreement. Then Derek whispered an afterthought: "…Also the best Margarita, to boot."

Basil raised his eyebrows. "No kidding?"

"We used to cut loose here after a long day at work."

"Work hard, play harder—Right?"

Derek laughed. "Back in the day…How's that boyfriend trouble coming?"

"Keep moving forward, right?"

" _Damn_ right."

"How about you, Derek—what's the grand plan?"

"You know…Run the company by 35; Jet by 40; Retire to my private island by 45; own the Lakers by 50."

Basil laughed. "Buy the Clippers instead; they're a safer investment. There's a rule-of-thumb that, if you lose to the Lakers, you're out of the NBA. Those guys suck donkeys."

"Not with me in charge, they won't."

"…Touché." They both smiled, and then Basil went on. "You want another margarita? It's on me."

"Oh, I don't know."

"C'mon, big talker—It's Christmas time. Works dead…"

"I'm still not sure," Derek said.

"I won't tell if you don't," Basil promised.

"All right," Derek gave in. "One. What do you like—Strawberry?"

"On the rocks, with salt…"

{}

At the office, the Christmas party was in full swing—with music, two bartenders, and lowered lights. The tree was all lit up. The mood was happy and playful. People were getting tipsy, except for those whose wristbands identified them as designated drivers. One male worker gave another male worker a back massage with a computer mouse.

Joe Gage, in a Santa suit, was passing out gag presents. Basil was in a group with Patricia and some other workers, chatting.

Then Basil glanced over and saw Derek. He was off to the side, sipping drinks with Ben.

Desks and furniture were shoved back. Workers were dancing freestyle, crowding into the center of the room.

Marge grabbed Derek by the arm and pulled him out. Derek made some half-hearted dance moves, getting into the spirit. People were crammed together like sardines. Before he knew it, Derek found himself dancing face-to-face with Basil.

"Well, if it isn't the Office Asshole," Basil said with humor.

"That's _Mister_ Office Asshole to you," Derek responded.

Basil was impressed. "You can dance."

"Yeah, all those years of watching SOUL TRAIN paid off."

Basil laughed. "I wasn't sure I'd come tonight. It's not like I've been here that long."

"I'm sure everybody's glad you showed up," Derek said.

"Even you?"

"What's this _even me_ stuff? I'm your number-one supporter around here."

Basil smiled, happy. Then he looked up. "…Uh-oh."

Derek looked up, too. They were both under the mistletoe. "How did that get there?" he wondered.

They looked at each other, smiling awkwardly. Derek laughed it off.

"Maybe a quick one on the cheek?" Basil suggested playfully. "If we don't, people really _will_ suspect there's something going on."

But Derek stepped away. "Guess we'll just have to take that chance."

Basil laughed good-naturedly. "Chicken, huh?"

The music changed, breaking the mood. Derek smiled at Basil and slipped away, rejoining Ben—who noticed Derek looking at his watch.

"You're not bailing soon, are you? The fun's just getting started. Remember last year? Sally Sloane did a table dance." Ben indicated a pretty secretary laughing and accepting another drink. "I'll give her one more drink, and then stand back. How about you, buddy? Need a refill? Come on, where's your holiday spirit?"

"With Kyle and Tommi," Derek said. "I'm gonna take a squirt and sneak out."

"You're no fun," Ben responded.

{}

Derek headed unsteadily down the hall. No one else was around as he entered the men's room. He went to the nearest urinal and unzipped, then heard the door open and close. Derek thought nothing of it, this being a large public Men's restroom in the workplace with 4 urinals and 2 stalls.

Suddenly, a hand snaked around Derek's waist and grabbed his crotch. Derek whirled and found himself face-to-face with a brazen, smiling Basil…who dangled a sprig of Mistletoe in his free hand. His eyes flashed with desire.

Derek was alarmed. "What are you doing?"

Basil tried to kiss Derek, who resisted—staggering away from the urinal with Basil continuing to hold him.

"Basil—"

They knocked open a stall door and fell in. Derek went back against the toilet, with Basil now straddling him.

"Basil, stop—Are you out of your—"

Then someone came in. Derek kicked the stall door shut just in time. He and Basil froze, pressed close together as a drunken male worker staggered to the nearest urinal and unzipped.

Basil hid a giggle. Derek was horrified they'd be discovered.

Pissing loudly, the drunk began to sing SANTA CLAUS IS COMING TO TOWN…off-key, off-tempo, and off-everything.

In the stall, Basil and Derek were face-to-face. Derek's hand grabbed Basil's wrist, as Basil squeezed Derek's crotch. Derek tried to remove Basil's hand, but the younger man's grip was like a vise.

"For God's—" Derek began.

"Oh, come on…" Basil cut him off.

Hearing something, the drunk hesitated in mid-piss and looked back over his shoulder. "Hey, who's there?" he asked blearily.

Basil gave the trapped Derek a naughty smile, in control and enjoying this, turned on by the thrill of getting caught.

"Somebody in there?" the drunk asked.

Basil was about to answer when Derek silenced him…by shoving a handkerchief into his mouth. Getting no reply, the drunk resumed pissing.

Basil smeared the Mistletoe sprig against Derek's face, and then went down on him. Derek clutched Basil's head with both hands, forcing him to stop. Basil looked up at Derek, eyes gleaming with passion.

"Don't do this," Derek hissed.

The Drunk continued pissing for an endless minute. Finishing at last, he clumsily zipped back up and lurched over to the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair. Finally the drunk smiled at himself and then stumbled out the door.

The stall door banged open as Derek pushed Basil aside and staggered out, zipping up his fly.

Basil gazed at him in confusion. "Wait. Where are you going?"

Derek was flustered. "You've got the wrong idea!"

Basil didn't seem to understand, but was amused. Derek was already out the door.

{}

The office was a wilder scene now. Sally Sloane was doing an uninhibited table dance, to the delight of everyone gathered.

Patricia, standing off, saw Derek hurry down the hall and head for the elevator. A moment later, she saw Basil come down the hall and rejoin the party.

Patricia tipsily walked over to Basil. "Living dangerously, aren't we?"

"Oh, Patricia, you're such an old queen. Come on. Dance with me." Basil teasingly pulled her out with the other dancers. "I'll bet you've never been this close to a _real_ man."

{}

Driving home in the Yukon, Derek was agitated. He forced himself to calm down, and to make sense of what had happened.

That was when he heard a siren. His eyes went up to the rear view mirror in panic, as a police car with flashing lights gained on him.

Derek pulled over, his heart pounding. This was all he needed right now.

The police car flew by on its way to some emergency. Derek closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

{}

The Charles house was swept by headlights as Derek pulled into the drive.

Tommi's bedroom was dark, as Derek looked in on his sleeping daughter.

The master bedroom was dark, too. Derek, now nude, approached the bed where Kyle was snoozing. He slipped in beside the love of his life.

Kyle woke up halfway. "How was the party?"

"I only stayed for two drinks."

"That dull, huh?"

Derek considered telling Kyle…who cut him off.

"Not tonight, okay? I'm really tired. " Then Kyle was back asleep.

Derek just lay there. Normally, feeling Kyle's warm and naked body against his own would have put him on Cloud Nine. Instead, Derek was in Hell. He looked up and saw his own dark reflection in the ceiling mirror.

{}

Monday morning, Derek got off the elevator and walked toward his office. Turning a corner, he saw Basil coming the other way, carrying files.

Derek tensed and stopped, expecting the worst. Basil merely gave him a pleasant smile and walked by.

"Good morning, Derek."

"Morning, Basil."

Nobody would have thought the other night had ever happened. Basil continued on his way, delivering the files to a co-worker. Derek stood there, observing Basil, wondering.

Ben appeared beside Derek. "You okay, bro?"

Derek turned, startled. He had to register Ben. "…Yeah. I'm fine."

"You should have stuck around for the rest of the party."

"What?"

"Remember Hank, from Human Services? He tossed his cookies on the Christmas tree."

Derek barely registered this. "Really…? Sorry I missed that."

Derek and Ben went to their respective offices.

{}

Later, Derek was working at his desk when Basil appeared in the doorway. Derek looked up, tensing.

"Bad time…?" Basil asked.

"No—" was Derek's wary answer.

"Joe wants to know if you're done with the Von Kleiner portfolio."

"Tell him he'll have it by the end of today."

"Thanks." Basil turned to go.

"You're working Joe's desk?" Derek asked.

"Just for today…" Basil laughed lightly. "He's a real screamer, isn't he?"

"Don't let him fool you. His bark actually is _worse_ than his bite."

Basil smiled and exited. _Great; maybe he doesn't remember,_ Derek thought.

{}

At the day's end, workers were leaving. Derek was still in his office, still working at his desk, when Patricia appeared at the door.

"Okay if I take off?"

"Yeah, Patricia, go home."

"See you tomorrow." Patricia left.

Through the open door, Derek saw other workers getting on the elevator. These included Basil, who didn't even look Derek's way.

Derek relaxed and went back to work.

{}

That night, Derek walked to his Yukon—the only car remaining in the parking garage. He tapped his beeper and the SUV's doors unlocked.

As Derek opened the driver's door and slid inside, the passenger door opened as well. Basil slipped in, wearing his overcoat and an intimate smile.

Derek was startled. "What are you—!?"

"I owe you an apology for the Christmas party. I took you by surprise, didn't I?"

"We both had a few drinks." Derek struggled not to sound, or look, as uneasy as he felt. "Just forget it."

"What if I can't forget?"

"Basil… _Nothing_ happened."

"All right, have it your way. Nothing happened." Basil let the front of his overcoat fall open. He was naked underneath.

Derek was jolted by panic. "You really need to get out of my car."

"Why?"

"This is so not right."

"Relax," Basil said. "Nobody's around to see us now. God, I almost went insane today, didn't you? Having to pretend like I was concentrating on work, when all I could think about was—"

Derek flared. "Basil, get out of my car!"

Basil looked startled, confused. "Derek, what's wrong? What did I do?"

Derek suddenly reached across Basil and threw open the passenger door. "I don't know what's wrong with you; maybe you're just dense. But I want you to understand something. There's nothing going on between us. I would never jeopardize my job with a co-worker…and that means _never_."

"Wow. I don't know if you're just an asshole, or what's wrong with you either."

"Fuck off!" Derek physically forced Basil out, and then quickly turned the key in the ignition. As he revved the engine and peeled out in reverse, the passenger door banged shut.

{}

Derek let himself into the Charles house, determined to tell Kyle everything. He called Kyle's name and Kyle called back from the dining room, which Derek entered.

"There's something I need to—" Derek stopped upon seeing Kyle at the table. "What's wrong?"

Kyle looked upset. He was drinking wine right from the bottle. "I've been on the phone for the last hour with Rachel Hendricks. She found out Tim's been having an affair with a neighbor; it's been going on for the past year and a half."

Derek stopped dead. "Tim? Really…?" He sat down at the table.

Kyle went on between swigs of wine. "At first I couldn't even conceive of it. They've always seemed to be so much in love, totally devoted to each other."

Derek could barely conceive of it, either. "…Tim— _told_ her?"

"Tim just blurted it out last night when he came home from work. He moved out the next morning. And right in front of their three kids, too. Poor Rachel's a wreck."

"Yeah…That's tough."

"Tough? It's a disaster. If it was me, I'd put a murder contract out on him."

"Kyle, you know I'd never cheat on you." Derek reached across the table and took Kyle's hand.

"Would you believe Tim's already got a child with this neighbor? And they're expecting another in a couple of months."

Derek moved closer and put an arm around Kyle. "Tim's an idiot."

"His parents were a pimp and a whore…So what did you want to tell me?"

There was no way Derek could tell Kyle now. "Forget it; just a little problem at work. Nothing I can't take care of."

{}

In Ben's office the next day, Derek was looking agitated. He had confided in Ben, who didn't know whether to be concerned or turned-on.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked Derek.

"There was nothing to tell."

"He grabbed your cock, flashed himself in your car, and there's nothing to tell? Come on, man. I thought we were best friends."

"You think this is funny?" Derek sneered.

"I just…Jesus. I mean, I kind of got that he was interested, but I never figured he'd…"

"What the hell did I do? I was nice to him, that's all."

"Sure you didn't lead him on just a little?" Ben wondered. "I mean, a gorgeous young man…It would be normal…"

"I didn't do jack squat."

"Maybe Basil thinks he can make the jump from assistant to husband, too?"

"Thanks," Derek's voice dripped sarcasm. "You're a damned big help."

"Sorry…What are you going to do?"

"Report it to Human Resources…"

"Get him fired?"

"I don't have a choice," Derek replied.

"I'd be very careful if I were you. What if he makes trouble and says you came on to _him_?"

Derek gave Ben a deadly look.

Ben went on. "Look…It's not like you don't have a history of behavior here. When's the last time you had an assistant on your desk—an assistant who looked as fine as Basil? People are going to wonder."

"Then I need to get my side on the record first."

They looked at each other for a few seconds, before Ben made a joke. "Wouldn't it be cheaper to just have him killed?"

Derek frowned at him.

{}

Determination was written all over Derek's face as he entered the outer office of Hank Truman, who was in charge of Human Resources. Truman's pretty secretary looked up from her desk.

"Morning, Mr. Charles," she said.

"Hi, Connie; is Hank in?" Derek asked.

Hank answered for her, from the inner office. "Derek? Is that you?"

Derek entered Hank's office, closing the door behind him. "Hey, Hank; how's everything?"

"What's up, Rex?"

"Well, it's a personal matter. I need to talk with you about one of the temps, Basil Sheridan."

"Right. He worked your desk for some time," Hank recalled.

Derek prepared to confess. "Listen, this is going to be awkward…"

"If you're here to file a complaint about Basil's performance, save your breath; his agency called this morning and said he wouldn't be coming in anymore. They already sent over a replacement."

Derek struggled to conceal his surprise. "He quit? Did they give a reason?"

Hank nodded. "Basil's been tapped to work for Hans Von Kleiner…Why? Did you have some kind of a problem with him?"

"Well, I just thought Basil was overqualified, in over his head. But if he already quit…"

"It looks like he beat you to the punch."

Derek did his best to absorb all of this. "Yeah, it does."

"Was there anything else?"

"…No. I guess not."

Hank changed the subject. "Tell me about the new house."

"It couldn't be better." Derek smiled.

"Tell Kyle I said hi."

"I will. Listen…we'll have you and Kathy over some night, when we're more settled."

"Sounds like a plan."

Derek showed himself out.

Ben was waiting down the hall. "Well?"

"Basil's gone over to Von Kleiner, of all people." Derek answered.

Ben grinned, raising his hand for a high-five. "Come on, bro. That's good news. Problem solved."

Derek felt his good luck sinking in. "Looks that way, doesn't it?"

"Not a bad little Christmas present," Ben said, as Derek happily returned his high-five.

"Yeah, Von Kleiner can have him."

{}

Christmas morning at the Charles house was spent under the tree, unwrapping presents, having a great time. For Derek, all troubles were forgotten.

{}

At his office desk the next day, Derek was in a good mood as he spoke into the phone. "Hans? Derek. How was your Christmas? Well, don't take this the wrong way, but _your_ people invented it. You got the prospectus? Great, look it over. I think it'll be a Happy New Year for all of us."

Derek looked at the door where Ben was standing, gave him a thumbs-up. Ben beamed and did a little victory-dance.

{}

A week later, Derek and Kyle entered their master bedroom. Both were dressed in pink tuxedoes with blue trim. Both were also exhausted from a New Year's party.

"God, it's after three," Kyle said. "That's the last time I'm going out on New Year's Eve. Next year, we'll celebrate here at home…just you, me, and Tommi."

"That's what you said last week," Derek replied. "And the year before that…I'm just gonna check my e-mail and come to bed."

"Can't it wait?"

"It's already tomorrow in Berlin. Von Kleiner was supposed to send me his approval. That's probably him."

As Kyle went into the adjoining bathroom, Derek yawned and sat down at his computer. He went to e-mail, scanned it…and was instantly confused.

There were dozens of e-mails, all from the same sender: TEMPBOY. Fearfully, Derek pulled up the first e-mail.

It opened up to reveal a self-taken photo of Basil, looking sexy and inviting on a bed, smiling seductively. He was wearing skimpy underwear that showed off his sexy, clean-shaven body. Under Basil's photo was written **See you in the New Year**.

Derek felt a jolt of panic. He deleted the e-mail and brought up the others…It was the same photo, Basil on the bed, over and over.

As he stared at Basil onscreen, Derek felt sick and invaded. He wasn't even aware of Kyle coming out of the bathroom behind him.

Kyle approached Derek, who continued to delete. "Von Kleiner?" he asked, peering over Derek's shoulder.

Derek hit the DELETE key. The last photo of Basil disappeared.

"What was that?" Kyle asked.

"Nothing," Derek answered, feeling perturbed. "I gotta get a new spam blocker."

Kyle gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Forget it; he'll call you in the morning. Come to bed; I'm horny as hell and I wanna do some serious banging."

Derek stared at the computer screen saver: a picture of Kyle, with Tommi sitting on Santa's knee at the Grove.

{}

The next day, at his office desk, Derek was tensely typing an e-mail to TEMPBOY on the computer: **Leave me the fuck alone**. He sent it and sat back.

Almost instantly, there was a reply. Derek stiffened.

Tensely, he opened the new e-mail. TEMPBOY had replied with one of those annoying Yellow Smiley Faces. Derek felt a chill as it winked at him.

Suddenly, Ben knocked—and then opened the door without waiting for a response. "Joe wants to see you. And that means yesterday, if not sooner."

{}

Mid-January, the Charles' withered Christmas tree waited at the curb for pick-up.

In the master bedroom, Kyle was helping Derek pack a bag.

"Remember the last time Joe had one of his weekend work retreats?"

"How could I forget? I had a hangover for a week after," Derek answered.

"Are any handsome guys coming this year?"

"No…just the usual suspects. Joe says it's going to be a male-bonding experience."

"I don't like the sound of that," Kyle sneered. "I can just picture you people in the hotel Jacuzzi, getting in touch with your innermost feelings…You'd better tell them you've got AIDS or something; otherwise, _I_ will."

Derek zipped up his bag. "Hopefully, they'll all get drunk and crash early. Or—if I'm really lucky—drown in the Jacuzzi."

"Call me tonight. Don't make me come over there with a bazooka and blow up the hotel with you in it."

"Whatever do you take me for?" Derek gave Kyle a kiss, glancing at their image reflected in the overhead mirror.

{}

Derek, Joe Gage, Ben Talbot, and three other men shared a table in their hotel's bar and grill. All six were smoking cigars and relaxing after dinner.

The mood was rowdy, as a cocktail waitress in a tight minidress delivered drinks to the six already-toasted men.

"I didn't order this," Derek said, gazing at his drink.

She leaned down and whispered in his ear. "It's from the man at the bar."

Derek turned and peered at the crowded bar area. He caught a flash of a young man in a tight business suit seated on a stool. Suddenly, a crowd of people moved into Derek's line of vision; when they cleared, the young man was gone.

"Derek, you okay?" Joe asked his tense friend.

"I'm fine," Derek answered. "I saw somebody who looked familiar."

"Was it somebody you know?" Joe smiled. "Or somebody you'd _like_ to know?"

The other four guys chortled.

"No way," Ben said. "You can't tempt this guy. I should know; I've been hitting on him for years."

"Who could blame him with a husband like Kyle?" Joe grinned.

"Speaking of Kyle, I said I'd give him a call before he tucked Tommi in for the night." Derek picked up his drink. "I'll be right back."

"Hurry up," Joe said. "This party's just getting started."

{}

The patio outside the bar was low-lit and empty.

Derek came out and flipped open his cell to call home. "Hey, honey. It's me." He put his drink down on a table.

Kyle had just put Tommi to sleep in her bedroom. "How's the male bonding?"

"They're all getting wasted. Any minute now, Joe's going to suggest the Jacuzzi."

"Well, if your future depends on putting on a bathing suit and getting into a hot-tub with a bunch of drunks, I've got my heaviest machine-gun oiled…Derek? Are you still there?"

Derek froze. Across the patio, he saw a figure slowly approaching. It was a back-lit silhouette. As the silhouette passed into the light from the bar, it was revealed as Basil—transformed into an alluring male-fatale.

"I have to go," Derek said.

"Wait," Kyle responded. "Tommi wants to say good night."

Derek was tense. "They're yelling for me to come back."

"It'll just take a second…" Kyle picked up Tommi. "Say goodnight to your other Daddy, Tommi."

As Basil came closer, Derek became desperate. "Kyle, I'll call you later."

"I'll be in bed—Derek?"

Derek had already clicked off and pocketed his cell.

Kyle was perturbed.

Basil came face-to-face with Derek; smiling, he boldly picked up Derek's drink and took a sip. "I can always tell, from the pained look on your face, when you're talking to Kyle."

"How did you know I'd be here?" Derek demanded.

"I've got my sources, which shall remain confidential." Basil frowned slightly. "What's wrong? You don't look happy to see me."

 _Understatement of the fucking year,_ Derek thought. "Why did you come here?" he asked Basil.

"You said you could never be with someone you work with."

Derek obviously didn't get it.

"That's why I quit," Basil explained. "So we could be together."

Derek looked at him, astounded, holding down panic. "Basil, you need to leave."

Basil smiled teasingly. "Or you'll do what? Make a scene? Call security? What would Joe and Ben think? I'll _tell_ you: they'd think we arranged it…which, in a way, we did." He turned aside and, out of Derek's sight, slipped a capsule into the drink. "This hook-up was on the books from the day we met," he said, putting Derek's drink onto the table again.

"What are you talking about?"

"One of us has to take control, and I guess it's me. So you go back, say your good nights to the boys, and I'll be waiting in my room. 610."

"I'm not coming to your room," Derek said.

"Would you rather I come to yours?"

"You're crazy…sick. You need help."

"I know I need help." Basil's tone was seductive, as he moved closer. "So help me." He pressed against Derek.

"Stay away from me!"

Basil emitted a musical laugh and smoothed his suit, registering Derek's angry face and clenched fists. "All right, Derek. You play your games…" He smiled, turning away. "…and I'll play mine." Basil vanished into the darkness, footsteps echoing.

Derek felt his cell phone vibrate, and whipped it out. "Kyle, I'm sorry—"

"I wish I _was_ Kyle," Ben teased. "What I wouldn't give to sleep with you on a nightly basis. So where the hell are you, bro?"

"I'm coming right back in." The agitated Derek picked up his drink, downing it as he re-entered the bar.

{}

It was after midnight when Derek and Ben got off the elevator. Ben was drunk, but Derek was farther gone—wobbly on his feet, bleary.

"Come on, it's early," Ben said. "We'll plunder the mini-bar in my suite, charge it all to Joe."

"Can't, man. That last drink totally kicked my ass. I need to lie down."

"All right, be that way. But don't forget—Nine o'clock in the California Room. Joe's big rah-rah to the troops." With that, he and Derek went their separate ways.

Derek, feeling more and more disoriented, made his way up the hotel corridor toward his own suite. He fished around in his pockets and found the key card for his suite. Then he slid the card and pushed open the door.

As Derek let himself in, he didn't need click on the lights; a full moon was shining through the window. He flopped down onto his bed without bothering to undress.

Derek closed his eyes, and then opened them again. He felt sick. Sound and perception were playing games with his head. The room spun as he heard a sound, a rushing noise. It was the shower. The bathroom door was shut, but there was a crack of light around the edges.

Someone was in there. But Derek was too out of it to give a damn. He just wanted to sleep, to make everything go away. So he closed his eyes and drifted off.

The bathroom door opened, letting in a cloud of steam and a shaft of light. A man's silhouette appeared, naked. The other man moved toward Derek's bed.

Derek felt the bed move…felt a tug on his trousers…then, an amplified zipping noise.

Derek's eyes opened in shock. He couldn't believe what he saw—Basil, naked, straddling him. Basil's hand was caressing Derek's face. It was a nightmare. Basil smiled seductively and put a finger to his lips.

"No…" Derek was so groggy that he could barely get the word out.

"Hush, baby…" Basil's voice seemed distorted, like it was coming from another world. "I'm going to take real good care of you."

Derek was unable to resist; he had no control over his body or mind. He could see only shifting, distorted images: Basil's face…Basil's smile…Basil's teeth…Basil's lips…the blazing look of sexual desire in Basil's eyes, written all over Basil's face.

Somewhere in those eyes, Derek saw _himself_. That was the last thing he saw before passing out.

The entire world went black and silent.

{}

The sunlight was dazzling.

Derek woke up, startled by a pounding on the door, and by a woman's voice: "Housekeeping!"

Disoriented, he blinked at the sun. It took his fogged brain a few moments to realize where he was: still in his hotel room, naked under the covers.

Somebody had shaved Derek's entire body; his limbs and torso were as soft and silky-smooth as a baby's backside. So were Derek's crack and sack, indicating that someone had used salon-caliber hair-remover on his privates; there was no burn, no itch, nothing. How had—

"Housekeeping!" the woman called again, and unlocked the door.

"Later!" Derek shouted. "Come back later!"

"Okay," she said. "I come back."

Derek glanced over at the clock. _10:15,_ he thought. _Shit!_ He'd overslept, and now he was late for the seminar.

Getting up, he looked over—and his heart stopped.

Basil was sprawled beside him, face-down, naked under the covers. He opened his eyes and gave Derek a sexy, sleepy smile.

"Morning," Basil said, stretching his body like a cat.

Derek went into panic mode, jumping out of the bed like it was on fire. "You've got to get the hell out of here!"

"What are you talking about?"

"Leave! You've got to go!" Derek grabbed Basil by the arm, dragged him out of bed—while, at the same time, gathering Basil's clothes from the floor and thrusting them into the other man's arms.

"Derek, come on…"

"I want you the fuck out of here!"

"Why? You worried somebody's going to catch us?"

"Just get your goddamned ass out," Derek said.

Basil was half-amused. "We woke up a little grumpy this morning, didn't we?" He barely managed to slip into his clothes before Derek opened the door and pushed him into the hall. "Derek, what is wrong with you?"

Derek slammed the door and then locked it. On the other side, he heard Basil's musical laugh.

"All right," Basil went on. "Have it your way."

Shaking, Derek sat on the bed's edge and buried his throbbing head in both hands. He was in hell. "Fuck…fuck…fuck…"

{}

Minutes later, Derek slipped into the hotel seminar room. He took a seat next to Ben, at the end of a big table. The other guys there were also under the weather, but took notice of Derek's late arrival.

"Thank God," Joe interrupted his own talk. "We were about to send a search party."

"Sorry. Overslept," Derek said. He glanced over at Ben, who frowned at him. Then he looked over at the wall clock, as Joe resumed talking. It was 10:35.

{}

Two hours and fifteen minutes passed like two minutes and fifteen seconds. At 12:50, while Joe continued his talk, a hotel clerk slipped into the room.

The clerk went over to Derek and murmured something to him. Perking up with concern, Derek leaned over to Ben.

"Kyle's here," Derek said softly, mystified. "I'll be right back." He got up and left, following the clerk outside and around a corner.

"Here's your—ah—husband, sir." With that, the clerk excused himself.

Derek stopped dead. It wasn't Kyle waiting for him. It was Basil, dressed sexy-casual.

"I thought you might need an excuse to get out of there." Basil flashed a bright smile. "…How about some lunch? It's gorgeous outside and I made a reservation at—"

Grabbing Basil by the elbow and hustling him out of sight, Derek struggled to keep his voice down. "What do you think this is?"

"…The morning after, what else?"

"We didn't do anything last night." Derek was flaring.

Basil gave him a sly smile. "But you can't remember, can you?"

"It didn't happen!"

"Derek, not so loud; you'll cause a scene."

"Right…a scene…That's _exactly_ what we need." He hauled Basil roughly back down the hall.

"What are you doing?"

"What I should have done last night. Taking you inside to tell Joe and the others whatever you want. They'll know you're out of your mind." Derek yanked Basil toward the door.

Basil struggled to pull away. "Why do you want to ruin his?"

" _There is no this!_ "

"Don't say that."

"Goddamnit!" Roughly, Derek threw Basil headlong against a wall, stunning him. Then Derek stepped back—surprised by his own violence. "I'm sorry…"

"What's wrong with you? You're acting like a stranger."

"Yeah, that's _exactly_ what I am. A stranger, a person you don't know. Now go inside and tell them your bullshit lies; after that, get the hell out of here."

Basil flared, his tone going ugly. "You think you can use me, and then throw me away? I'm not some piece of garbage, Derek. I'm a human being…" He reached out to Derek—who, in frustration, raised a hand to strike him.

Basil's eyes flashed with excitement. Derek stopped himself, revolted by his own behavior.

"Do it," Basil challenged. "Hit me. You can do anything you want to me. Don't you know that? Anything…"

Derek stared at him—as if Basil were a thing, an object—and then shook his head.

"…Except look at me that way. Don't," Basil said.

"How else do you look at somebody who sickens and repulses you?"

"Derek, please…"

"I don't care what you do, or what you say, or what goes on in that twisted mind of yours. It doesn't matter, because there's never going to be anything between us. And that's the truth. So go ahead, Basil…Do your worst."

They stared at each other. Then Derek turned and went into the seminar room, closing the door behind him.

With a heartbreaking expression of hurt, Basil stared at the door for a long moment. He wiped a tear from his face, and then walked away.

{}

That night in the hotel restaurant, Derek ate dinner with Ben and Joe. The atmosphere was lively. Derek seemed apart from the others, lost in thought.

"Derek, are you drinking?" Ben asked.

"Not tonight, man. I'm sticking to ice tea."

{}

Later, Derek got off the elevator at his floor. Stepping inside his suite, he froze—confronted with his worst nightmare.

A path of discarded clothing led to the bed, where Basil lay. He was naked under the covers, eyes shut, seemingly asleep.

Derek's anger rose. "No. No fucking way…" He moved toward the bed and the sleeping Basil. "Goddamn it…"

There was no response. Basil's head was cocked to one side; his skin was ghostly pale.

Derek leaned over and shook Basil's naked shoulder. "Basil, get the hell up." It was like shaking a doll. "Get up or I'll drag your sorry ass out and throw it in the hall."

That was when Derek saw it. On the nightstand was an empty bottle of prescription pills. He picked up the bottle and looked at the label: AMBIEN.

Fighting panic, Derek grabbed the bedside phone and punched DESK. "This is 622. There's a man in my room; he's taken an overdose of prescription pills—Ambien. You need to get the paramedics and security up here yesterday, if not sooner. Please hurry."

Derek hung up and put one knee on the bed. He took Basil's face in both hands, turning the other man's head. Derek might as well have been handling a marionette.

"Basil!" he shouted. No response. Derek put his ear to Basil's naked chest, struggled to detect a heartbeat. If there was one, he couldn't hear it. Derek gently slapped Basil's cheeks, rolled back the other man's eye lids. There was nothing.

"Oh, God…" Derek performed CPR, tilting Basil's jaw back and clearing the other man's mouth. He breathed into Basil, alternating chest compressions.

"Basil! Wake the fuck up, Goddamn it…!"

{}

In one corner of the ER waiting area, Derek looked haggard. He was being interviewed by veteran police detective Carlene Reynolds.

Reynolds looked more like a suburban mom than a cop, but she was very good at her job. "All right, Mr. Charles, let me get this straight—no pun intended—This guy you barely know, works in your office, fantasizes you're having an affair with him. When you reject him, he tries to commit suicide in your bed."

"I know how it sounds, but…yeah. I couldn't give it to you any straighter than that."

"This affair…"

"There _was no_ affair." Derek's voice rose in spite of himself.

"So he just…conjured it up in the back of his mind, with no help from you?"

"Maybe I was too nice to him, said something he took the wrong way. All I know is, I did not lead him on."

"And you had no idea he'd be at the hotel?" Reynolds went on.

"None. I don't even know how he got in my room."

"Apparently he introduced himself to one of the housekeepers as – ah, your – um, _husband –_ Sorry, I'm still taking that part in…"

Derek nodded patiently.

"…And told them he lost his key."

"Doesn't that prove he did this on his own?"

Reynolds shook her head. "All it proves is he lost his key."

"He never _had_ a key."

"Look, Mr. Charles, I don't care if you were or weren't banging this guy. I just need to get your version for my report. Besides, if it's a question of innocence, I'm not the one you have to convince."

"What do you mean?" Derek asked.

"Let's just say I'd feel less than comfortable explaining a situation like this to _my_ husband."

Before Derek could respond, Reynolds saw an ER doctor signaling. "I'll be right back," she told Derek, and then went to speak with the doctor.

Derek watched them talk for a few moments. Then the doctor handed Reynolds a piece of paper.

Unable to stand the suspense, Derek walked over and cut in. "How is he?"

Reynolds nodded to the doctor and took Derek aside. "They pumped him out in time. Doctor says your friend's groggy and disoriented. Tomorrow, they'll move him out of ICU and up to the fifth floor, probably for a psychiatric evaluation. All suicides are put on 72-hour hold; it's standard."

"Did he say anything?"

"As a matter of fact, he was lucid; gave the doctor a name to call in case of emergency. He wrote it down here." Reynolds handed over a piece of paper, on which was written Derek's name and phone number. "Still want to stick with your story?" she asked Derek.

{}

Dawn was breaking as Derek guided the Yukon into the drive. He stepped out, hesitated. The front door of the Charles house opened to reveal a tense-looking Kyle in a robe. They looked at each other across the distance. Then Derek walked to him.

"Tell me everything. From the beginning," Kyle said coldly.

Derek nodded. This was not going to be easy.

They retired to the living room, where Derek told it all.

The stunned Kyle stared at him, uncomprehending. "How could you let this happen? And _why_ did you?"

"You don't think I _encouraged_ it, do you?"

"Just because you didn't encourage it doesn't mean you didn't _like_ it."

"Kyle…"

"Who wouldn't like the attentions of a gorgeous young man? I can just see those adoring blue eyes batting at you, every time you told him how great his ass looked, or what a sexy package he had—"

"Stop it, Kyle. You know I never said those things. I never have, except to you."

"You must have said _something_ , or _done_ something to give him the idea."

"If I did, it wasn't intentional. Come on, what the hell do you take me for?"

"He was in your _bed_ , Derek! You spent the _night_ together and you want me to believe nothing happened?"

"I was passed out…drunk. Nothing happened."

"You just said you were drunk. So how would you know nothing happened?" Kyle turned away, his face burning. "Damn you, Derek. Goddamn you."

"I love you, Kyle. I've always loved you, Tommi, and the life we have together. I would never do anything to screw that up. This guy is seriously disturbed; and, for some reason, he's fixated on me. I don't know why. Like I just told you, he's crazy."

"Then you should have told me, from the very beginning," Kyle said.

"I know."

"So why didn't you?"

"At first, I figured it was no big deal," Derek said. "And then…I was just too embarrassed. I didn't know how to explain it without looking…"

"Guilty?"

"I'm not too proud to admit I was wrong."

"…Did he know about us, Derek…? He _did_ know how you and I met, didn't he?"

"…Don't do this, Kyle; you'll make yourself sick."

"I'm _already_ sick."

"Honey, I know I screwed up…" Derek reached out "…But I've told you the truth. You have to believe me, and _I_ have to _know_ you believe me."

Kyle sighed wearily. "I don't know what to believe. All I know is…"

"Kyle, don't—"

"…I need to be alone for a while." Kyle moved quickly upstairs, leaving Derek there.

Derek sat back on the couch, head in his hands, at a loss. Then he made a determined rush upstairs after Kyle—only to find their bedroom door locked. Upset, Derek resignedly made his way over to the guest room. He grabbed a pillow and punched it twice, knowing he was in the dog house.

{}

In Basil Sheridan's hospital room, he was propped up in bed. His expression was dark and brooding. His tangled hair hung down over his face as he stared ahead, wide-eyed, dopey-looking.

Carlene Reynolds appeared in the doorway. "Mr. Reynolds?"

Basil looked up and smiled brightly, which transformed his entire face. "Come in. Sorry I'm such a mess, but they won't let me take a shower or wash my hair." He laughed dismissively. "Apparently, I'm still on suicide watch."

"I've been assigned to your case. How are you feeling?"

"Well, still groggy from the medication. But it hasn't stopped me from feeling the one thing I'd like _not_ to feel: shame, for all the trouble I've caused."

"Do you feel like talking about the other night?" Reynolds asked.

"Have you spoken to Derek?"

Reynolds nodded.

"And he's all right?"

"Yes—relatively speaking."

"When can I see him?" Basil asked.

"See who, Derek?"

Basil nodded.

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"How come it isn't?"

"Mr. Sheridan. I don't think Mr. Charles _wants_ to speak with you, or continue _any_ kind of contact."

Basil looked at her oddly. "Then why did he send _these_?" He indicated a bouquet of flowers in a vase nearby.

Reynolds barely kept the surprise out of her voice. "He sent you _flowers_?"

Basil nodded. "They're peonies, my favorite."

Reynolds inspected the attached card: _Basil, darling, the other night was just a misunderstanding. Don't ever leave me. Love always, Derek._

"When did these show up?" she asked Basil.

"A few hours ago," Basil explained. "Aren't they lovely?"

Deciding not to push it, Reynolds went into her Q & A. "Can you tell me what happened at the hotel, and why you were there?"

"Didn't Derek tell you?"

"I'd like to hear _your_ version."

"There's not much to tell. We got together and, as you can probably guess, one thing led to—"

"You slept together," Reynolds filled in the blanks. "You had wild, passionate sex."

" _Ding, ding_ ," Basil smiled. " _What do we have for her, Johnny?_ "

"Derek denies it."

"He's just being a gentleman, protecting me."

"I see. Go on," Reynolds prompted.

"The next day, when Derek told me that his husband wouldn't give him a divorce and that we could never see each other again, I just overreacted…I didn't realize he was simply being noble."

" _Noble_?"

"He was thinking about Tommi—that's his little girl—and about what the breakup might do to her. She's not even two, you know. My own parents broke up when I was pretty young. The scars it leaves never really go away, even if the pain does," Basil said.

"So you believe Mr. Charles is in love with you?"

"Read the card. Derek and I belong together and nothing can change that. But I do feel bad about his husband."

"Do you?"

"I'm not a home-wrecker. I'm not stealing him away. Their marriage is dead, and Kyle is in denial. It can't be easy to find out that the man he loves is in love with another man. I just hope Kyle doesn't do anything foolish." Basil cracked a strange smile. "You know the old saying: _Hell hath no fury like a man scorned._ "

Basil could almost have been talking about himself. Reynolds nodded, struggling not to look as chilled as she felt.

"You take it easy now," she told Basil. "We'll talk again."

As Reynolds excused herself, Basil went back to happily smiling at his flowers.

{}

Derek was alone with Joe Gage in the conference room.

"I don't have to tell you how an incident like this could impact the company," Joe said. "Even the slightest whiff of impropriety…"

"There was no impropriety, Joe. This is just the sick fantasy of a very disturbed guy."

" _A very disturbed guy_ ," Joe repeated, "who might retaliate by hitting us with a homosexual harassment lawsuit."

"There was no harassment, homosexual or otherwise. If anything, _I'm_ the one who was homosexually harassed." Derek sighed. "I can't believe this is happening to me. It's a nightmare."

"By now, you're probably wishing you _had_ fucked him."

Derek gave him a shocked look.

"For all the trouble it's costing you…Sorry. Bad joke."

"Goddamnit, Joe! If there's an injured party here, it's _me_."

"Derek, calm down. I want to believe you. And you know that when I trust somebody, I back them up all the way. But if I find out there _was_ something going on, I won't have a choice but to—"

"That's not going to happen, because there's nothing to find out."

"Good. Then we have nothing to worry about. Meantime, I'm putting Ben on the Ganz account."

"Isn't Ganz _my_ client—?" Derek began.

"Look, maybe you should take some time off…Just until this blows over."

Marge stuck her head in. "Sorry to interrupt. Derek, there's a Detective Reynolds here to see you."

Derek and Joe exchanged looks.

{}

Derek faced Carlene Reynolds across his desk.

"He obviously ordered the flowers for himself…" Derek began.

"…With _your_ credit card," Reynolds finished.

"My secretary keeps all my personal information on her computer. Basil must have accessed it when he was working my desk."

Reynolds gave him a blank look.

"You think _I_ sent the flowers? I'd have to be as crazy as he is."

"There's more." Reynolds opened a bag. "This is a printout of Basil's blog. A sort of diary he was keeping." She put a large pile of papers on Derek's desk. "It's a rather graphic and detailed account of your various sexual liaisons together."

Derek turned pale, his mouth falling wide open.

"You can read them for yourself," Reynolds went on, "But I should warn you, they're a little…X-rated."

As Derek paged through the blog, he grew increasingly alarmed by what was there: **Three times…from behind…on the floor…I was screaming…We were like two animals…coming together over and over…When he slapped me, the pain was exquisite…**

Derek reacted. "This is…None of this ever happened. I was never at his apartment. I never even touched him, let alone did any of this…"

"According to those entries…you're quite the accomplished lover, Mr. Charles," Reynolds said. "And you made promises to divorce Kyle and then marry Basil…"

"You can't possibly believe this."

"Whether I believe it or not," Reynolds said, "is irrelevant. The only thing which matters is that _Basil_ believes it…Basil, and Kyle."

"…There's gotta be something I can do to protect myself—and my family."

"You could file a restraining order. But that may not be necessary."

"Why not?" Derek asked.

"Basil's left town. He was released in the custody of his elder brother yesterday. His brother flew down from San Francisco and took him back. Basil has agreed to check himself into a neuropsychiatric hospital up there."

Derek was relieved. "Well, I can't say I'm unhappy to hear he's gone. Maybe now Basil can get the help he needs."

"With any luck, Mr. Charles, you'll never hear from him again."

{}

The next day, Kyle moved through the Charles living room, stopping to pick up one of Tommi's toys. He looked through the sliding glass window and saw Derek on the deck, holding Tommi in his arms.

They were playing a game. Derek pointed to objects in the distance, and Tommi identified them: "…Truck…dog…bird…"

Tears were in Kyle's eyes as he came closer, without Derek or Tommi seeing him.

Derek sang to Tommi: "Four little ducks went out one day…Over the hill and far away…"

{}

A few days later, 14-year-old Samantha walked Kyle and Derek to the front door. Both were dressed for a night out.

"You've got our cell numbers; so if there's any problem, don't hesitate to call us. _Capisce_?" Kyle asked the young baby-sitter.

"Come on, honey," Derek said. "Samantha knows what to do. Don't you, Samantha?"

"I've got four younger brothers." Samantha gave them a _no worries_ gesture. "Trust me; I should be way good at this."

Kyle remained concerned. "I don't know, Derek. Maybe we should…"

"No way," Derek cut him off. "Do you know how hard it was to get these reservations? Come on, we agreed. This is an important night. And I am _not_ gonna waste you in that outfit." He turned to Samantha. "He looks fantastic, doesn't he?"

Samantha nodded. "Like a movie star."

"Don't even think about it," Derek warned her. "He may be cute, but he's as gay as Paris."

"And fiercely proud of it," Kyle chimed in.

Derek took his husband by the arm. "Everything's gonna be fine," he assured Kyle.

"Okay…" Kyle turned to Samantha. "…But you _will_ call us, won't you?"

Derek grinned and led Kyle out the door, then called back to Samantha. "Lock and bolt this. We'll be back by ten. Oh, and the fire extinguisher is right next to the refrigerator."

Samantha nodded. "Have fun." She closed, locked and bolted the door behind them.

{}

Later that night, Derek and Kyle sat together in a romantic candlelit booth, working on a bottle of wine.

"I haven't seen you looking this relaxed and gorgeous in weeks," Derek said.

"I'd forgotten what this was like…the two of us out together," Kyle responded.

"Yeah. It's been awhile." Derek looked at his husband. It _had_ been a _long_ while since they'd touched…or had sex, for that matter.

Kyle smiled shyly, dropping his eyes.

Derek was encouraged. "So…there's hope?"

"It's not that easy."

"I need you to believe me." Derek poured the last of their bottle into Kyle's glass, and then signaled the waiter. "Could we get more of this one, please?" He smiled at Kyle, who looked at his wine glass.

"Derek, not everybody gets drunk and does things they regret."

Derek looked like he'd been punched in the face. "Like I keep telling you, I haven't done anything to regret."

Kyle looked up and gave him an icy gaze, speaking slowly. "I am telling you…You did."

{}

Later that night, Samantha was sprawled on the Charles' living room-couch. She was multi-tasking: watching MTV, sending a Facebook message on her laptop, speaking to a friend on her cell-phone, and paging through a teen magazine…all at the same time.

She didn't hear the doorbell ring the first time, or the second. Then there was a loud knocking. Samantha became aware, looked around—and saw a shadowy figure through the frosted window next to the door.

With a sigh of annoyance, Samantha got up. She went to the door, unlocked and opened it.

Basil Sheridan was standing on the threshold, looking fresh and handsome, with a super-friendly smile. "Hi. I'm Kyle's friend Al. He's expecting me." He breezed right in past Samantha.

"Mr. Charles and Mr. Montana are out," she informed him. "They went to dinner."

"What? Kyle told me to drop by. That's strange," Basil replied. "Oh well, I have something for Tommi. I'll just run up and give it to her."

Samantha intercepted him. "She's sleeping,"

"Oh, I won't wake her."

"Maybe you should come back."

"But I'm here right now. Why should I…Oh, I see. You're just being the babysitter. Way to go. You know what, let me call Kyle." Basil took out a cell phone and punched in a number, much to Samantha's relief. "Kyle? Hey, boyfriend. It's Al. Where am I? Where are _you_! I'm at _your_ place. Didn't you tell me to come by?" He turned toward Samantha. "No, it's okay. He forgot…" Basil turned away from her. "…No, Samantha was concerned. So I said I'd call you." He winked at Samantha. "Yeah. Okay, honey. You two have a great night. Oh, wait…Did you wanna talk to him, Samantha?" He held out the cell to Samantha, who shook her head. "I'll call you tomorrow, Kyle." Basil clicked off. "Great. This will only take me a minute, Samantha."

As he crossed the room and went up the stairs, Samantha returned to the couch and resumed "multi-tasking".

Tommi was asleep in her crib. Her bedroom door cracked open, emitting light from the hall, turning Basil into a ghostly silhouette. He entered the room, and silently approached the crib. He stood over her, smiling down at the vulnerable child.

Then Basil turned away and looked at himself in a mirror.

A minute later, Samantha was still Facebooking and cell-phoning and watching MTV all at once. Behind her, Basil came down the stairs.

"Thanks, Samantha. Nice meeting you."

The preoccupied Samantha didn't even look. "It was nice meeting you too, Al."

Basil vanished. After sending another Facebook message, Samantha wondered if she should check on the baby. She got up, started for the stairs…and then got another Facebook message on her laptop. Checking it, Samantha laughingly returned to the couch and answered her friend's message.

{}

Derek and Kyle drove home in tense silence.

Finally, Kyle spoke up. "It's Tommi's birthday tomorrow."

"I know."

"I told her we'd go to Legoland."

"I'll go online tonight and order the tickets," Derek said. "…Unless you'd rather take her alone."

Kyle shook his head. "Whatever we're going through, she needs us to be together."

Derek turned the corner to their street. Their house came into sight. Their garage door opened. Derek pulled into the drive and guided the SUV into the garage.

A minute later, Derek keyed the lock and opened the front door. He and Kyle entered.

On the couch, Samantha ended her texting and greeted them with a bright smile. "Hey! You guys got back so fast—"

"Did Tommi give you any trouble?" Kyle asked.

"No. She was a doll. But you just missed your friend."

Kyle and Derek froze. They turned rapidly, looked from each other to Samantha and back.

"What friend?" Kyle asked.

"Al. He was just here…called you on the cell."

Kyle tensed up. "Nobody called me…"

"Someone was _here_ , inside the house?" Derek cut in.

"Kyle said it was okay. Al had something for Tommi…"

Kyle panicked. "Oh, my God—where's Tommi!?"

"She's in her crib," Samantha answered.

Kyle streaked for the stairs.

"How long since he was here?" Derek asked Samantha.

"A couple of minutes," she answered, suddenly feeling their fear. "Why? What's wrong? Didn't you say—?"

Derek ran for the stairs. "Al wasn't talking to us," he called over his shoulder. "We don't know any Al!"

Samantha looked baffled. "So who'd claim to know you folks, who didn't?"

"It's a long story." Derek paused at the top of the stairs, turned back to face her. "Just pray to God it wasn't who I think."

Kyle ran into Tommi's bedroom. To his horror, the crib was empty. As Kyle let out a cry of anguish, Derek appeared in the door.

"He took her!" In desperate panic, Kyle turned to Derek. "He took my baby!"

Derek tore back downstairs and past the living room, where Samantha remained. "Call 911!" he shouted to her, then burst out the front door.

He raced into the garage, yanked open the driver's door and got in the Yukon. As Derek started the engine and turned to back out, he noticed Tommi in the backseat. She was strapped into her safety-harness, smiling at her Daddy.

"Tommi…" Derek got out, pulled open the back door and unstrapped his daughter. Then he saw something that made his blood run cold. On the child's forehead was a perfect red lipstick kiss.

Samantha appeared behind him. "The police are on their way," she said. "Is there anything else I can—?"

"Hell yeah; there is," Derek said. Then his hand flashed out and swatted Samantha to the ground on one knee. "You can stay right where you are, and not move until the cops get here. Because I'm having you arrested as an accessory to kidnapping, and to possible child molestation—to say nothing of criminal negligence. And even if none of that sticks, I'll think of another charge that does. By the way, if tonight is any indication, I feel very sorry for those brothers of yours."

Samantha licked her bloody lips and then spat on the ground, just missing Derek's shoes. "Then keep your money, you lousy queer."

{}

Later that night, in the hospital ER, Tommi was being examined by a doctor while Derek and Kyle consoled her.

"We pumped her stomach," the doctor said. "X-ray and cat scan came back normal. We'll wait for the blood work, but it appears she's completely fine. I don't see any reason why you can't take her home in a couple of hours."

Kyle's voice dripped tearful relief. "Thank you, Doctor."

Carlene Reynolds appeared in the doorway. A minute later, Derek and Kyle were conferring with her in the ER waiting area.

"Apparently," Reynolds said, "Basil stole his brother's ID to buy a ticket and board a plane to Los Angeles earlier today. He then used his brother's credit card to rent a car. His brother didn't even know Basil was gone until a few hours ago. He said Basil had been doing well in therapy, and he didn't know Basil checked himself out this morning…"

Kyle was very agitated. " _He was in our house—_ _ **alone with our daughter**_."

"The doctor says she's fine," Derek said.

"Well, _I'm_ not fine." Kyle turned to Reynolds. "I want you to find this son-of-a-pimp," he demanded.

"We will. He violated the restraining order, so we can arrest him. Look, Mr. Montana, I know you're upset. I'm a parent myself."

"How would you feel if it was _your_ child?" Kyle hissed.

"Exactly the same as you," Reynolds answered.

"Then find him," Kyle snarled, and then turned to rejoin Tommi in the examining room.

"…What now?" Derek asked. "Am I supposed to go out and buy a gun or something?"

"He didn't physically harm her," Reynolds said.

"No, but he _could_ have. Is that the message he's trying to send?"

"Either that, or…Maybe Basil was showing you he loves Tommi, too."

Derek looked sick.

"People like Basil," Reynolds went on, "…Their emotions can turn on a dime. What you don't want his feelings for you turning to rage. I don't know for sure, but there's a good chance he'll get in touch. If he does, you need to call me right away. Meanwhile, you might want to beef up your home security."

Derek nodded.

{}

Later that night, the SUV pulled up and parked in front of the Charles house. Derek and Kyle got out. Derek removed the sleeping Tommi from her car seat, and carried her to the front door where Kyle waited.

Still later that night, Tommi was asleep as Derek tucked her in. Suddenly, Kyle cried out Derek's name from the other side of the house. Derek raced out of Tommi's bedroom.

The master bedroom had been trashed. The bed had been stripped, and the ceiling mirror was now a spider-web of cracks. The closet was open and clothes were strewn about. Derek discovered Kyle on his knees, holding up a family photograph in which Kyle's head had been torn off.

"He never left," Kyle said. "He was here the whole time." Kyle scrambled over and found a wedding photo of himself and Derek. Again, Kyle's head had been removed. "What kind of sick…"

Derek crouched and held the crying Kyle, whose body was shaking. "It's all right, Kyle, it's all right—"

"No, Derek! It's not all right! We have to _do_ something. We can't live like this; nobody can."

As he held his husband, Derek looked up and saw their reflection in the mirror—twisted and distorted, like Basil's mind.

{}

The next day in their living room, Derek and Tommi were watching **Baby Einstein** on TV. Nearby, a security man was installing a new alarm system. On the other side of the room, Kyle was on the phone. Derek kept an eye on his husband.

"…Right. Thank you." Kyle clicked off and dialed a new number.

"Who are you calling?" Derek asked.

"Who do you think?"

"You're not…"

Kyle was determined. "I got his home number from Patricia."

"Basil won't be there."

"He can still pick up his messages."

"Kyle, why are you doing this?" Derek asked.

"I want him to know who he's dealing with now."

On the other end of the line came a cheerful voice: "Hi, this is Basil. I'm not here right now; so please leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you. Have a good one."

Kyle growled into the phone. "Listen to me, you little son-of-a-whore. This is Kyle Montana, and I just want you to know that if you ever— _ever—_ come near my child or my house again… _I'll kill your sorry ass_."

Kyle clicked off and gave Derek a defiant look. Derek didn't know what to say.

The Security Man appeared. "You're all set, folks. Want me to show you how the system works?"

"Definitely," Kyle answered.

{}

That night in his guest room, Derek lay in bed—wide awake and on guard. Hearing a car engine outside, he got up and went to the window.

He looked out and saw a police patrol car in front of the house. A moment later, it drove off.

Derek went to Tommi's room. She was sleeping safely. Derek went on to the master bedroom and observed Kyle from the doorway. He was asleep, too.

Derek returned to the guest room. A sudden sound made him tense up. He went to the window again.

It was the front-yard sprinklers kicking in.

{}

The next morning, as Derek was leaving for work, he pointed to the security pad. "Make sure you set this," he told Kyle.

"I do," Kyle assured him.

"It can't go on much longer. They're bound to pick him up soon," Derek added. "Look, if you want me to stay, I'll call in…"

"No, go to work. If anything happens, the security patrol will be here in two minutes." Kyle noted his husband's concerned look. "Go. I can take care of myself."

Derek opened the door and exited. Kyle closed it behind him and then touched the keypad. A computerized voice proclaimed, " **Set**."

Kyle watched from the window as Derek drove off to work. Tommi was playing nearby.

The phone rang. Kyle went over and picked it up warily. "Hello? Oh—Hi, Dad. What's wrong…?" He listened with mounting concern.

{}

The phone on Patricia's desk buzzed. She picked up. "Derek Charles's office—Hello, Kyle…" She perked up at the tone in Kyle's voice.

Derek was concentrating at his desk when the phone buzzed. He answered quickly. "Yeah…?"

"Kyle's on 2," Patricia told him.

"Thanks…Hi, honey. Is everything okay?"

{}

Tommi was playing on her bedroom floor. Kyle was on the phone nearby. "We're fine, but I just got some not-so-great news from my Dad."

"What's wrong?" Derek asked.

"My Mom went back in for more tests. They wanted to do another biopsy, and she's pretty scared."

"I can imagine."

"I'm sure it'll be fine…but I thought I'd drive down to San Diego to hold her hand, take Tommi with me," Kyle went on.

"I'm gonna be stuck here pretty late, but I could drive down after…"

"I don't think that's a good idea. Friday night traffic's gonna be a nightmare, and they won't know the results until tomorrow. Why don't you do what needs to be done, and then drive down in the morning?"

"Are you sure?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

There was still that frostbite between them.

"All right…Say hi to your dad; tell your mom that everything's going to be fine, and that I love her like my own. And call me when you're leaving the house."

"I do." Kyle clicked off and turned to Tommi. "Come on, sweetie. We're gonna take a little trip."

Tommi was excited. "Legoland?"

Kyle laughed and held her close. "No—much more fun than Legoland. We're going down to Gramps and Granny's."

"Daddy Derek, too…?" Tommi asked.

Kyle shook his head. "We'll see Daddy Derek tomorrow. Now…What toys do you want to take?"

Tommi toddled over to her toy box.

{}

At her desk, Patricia answered the phone. "Derek Charles's office—"

Basil Sheridan's voice was bright and chipper. "Hey there, girlfriend! How are you?"

Patricia was happy to hear from Basil, but kept her voice low. "I've missed you."

"Same here…Everything okay around the office?"

Patricia maintained her hushed, secretive tone. "Well, actually…"

"Go on?"

"…I'm concerned. I heard Derek took out a restraining order against you."

Basil laughed. "Oh, that was _Kyle's_ doing. He's not handling this well. Derek's just waiting for the right time to tell Kyle he's leaving."

"I don't think that's gonna happen."

"Of course it is."

"I'm not sure I should be telling you this…"

"Patricia, don't be a drama queen. I thought we were friends."

"We are."

"So?"

"Well…Kyle's headed town to San Diego tonight. His mother is having some tests done. Derek is driving down first thing in the morning to be by their side…Basil? Did you get all that?"

"Patricia, I have to go."

"But you just…"

"I'll talk to you later."

"Wait. I wanted to tell you about my date last night. The graphic artist my friend set me up with? Basil, you'd be so proud of me. I met her for drinks and then sucked his dick at—"

Basil's tone went icy. "Congratulations to both of you. Sorry, but I really have to go."

The line went dead. Patricia looked like she'd been hit in the face with a bag of shit.

{}

Basil put his cell phone in his pocket. He was standing in a grove of trees, looking down at the Charles house.

Kyle went out the front door, arms full with Tommi and overnight bags. He set the alarm and shut the door behind him…only to realize he forgot his wallet. Kyle punched back in, grabbed the wallet and closed the front door again behind him—forgetting to reset the alarm. He secured Tommi in her kiddie seat, then walked around to the driver's side, got in and drove away.

Basil approached the back of the house, carrying a paper bag. He stepped up on the deck and went to the kitchen door. Basil didn't even check to see if it was locked. He took a bottle of champagne form the bag, and used the bottle to break a pane in the kitchen-door window. Then he reached inside and unlocked the door.

Basil stepped inside the kitchen and looked around at the cheerful decor…Tommi's high chair, the places set for three at the table.

He put the champagne bottle on the counter. Humming happily, Basil opened shelves until he found two crystal champagne flutes. He took them down and then produced an ice bucket.

{}

Kyle drove down the hill, calling Derek on his cell. "Hey…We just left the house."

"Good. Did you set the alarm?"

"The…I think so. I had to run back in, and I can't remember if I reset it."

"Look, don't worry about that."

"No, I'm barely down the hill. I'll do it and call you back." Kyle clicked off, slowed down, and pulled into a driveway. Then he backed out and returned up the hill.

{}

Basil entered the master bedroom, carrying the ice bucket with the champagne bottle in it and the two flutes. He smiled excitedly, like a man preparing for his lover's return, and placed the champagne on the night table.

Basil removed his coat to reveal sexy white lingerie, which made him look like Frank N. Furter's twin. Then he reached into the coat pocket and took out a paper bag. He upended the bag and, giggling, sprinkled red rose petals on the floor—making a trail to the bed.

{}

Kyle drove up the winding road to his house.

{}

The ice bucket and champagne sat on the night table. Basil stretched out on the bed, amid the rose petals, leaving a space for his lover beside him. He gazed up at the cracked ceiling mirror. His smile was distorted, scary and insane-looking.

Then he heard Kyle pull into the driveway. He rolled off the bed and crossed to the window, parting the curtains to look outside.

{}

Kyle stepped out of the car. "Daddy will just be a minute," he told Tommi.

Basil tensed, suddenly fearful.

{}

Derek couldn't work, glancing at his cell for Kyle's call.

{}

Kyle let himself in, and was about to set the alarm when he heard the floor creak above him. He froze and waited, listening. There was no further sound, but Kyle knew. He went and opened the front door as if to leave, and then closed it as if he'd left the house.

Basil stood very still near the window, heard the door opening and then closing downstairs. Relieved, he peered out the window, expecting to see Kyle getting into the car. But there was no sight of him.

Kyle pulled off his shoes and laid them by the door, then stole upstairs.

He entered the master bedroom to see Basil peering out the window. "Boy, you're even dumber than my husband said you were. Or did you just forget to take your meds?"

Basil whirled around. Kyle was standing in the doorway, giving him a deadly look, like a cat who'd just trapped a mouse.

Kyle took notice of the rose petals on the bed and floor.

Basil was wide-eyed, terrified. Caught in the act, he edged his way around the room.

"You really fucked up this time…coming back to my house. Didn't you get my message?"

Basil's eyes darted around for escape.

Kyle seemed remarkably calm. "You can look all you want, but you're not getting out of here. Not until I've given you the beating of your life… _bitch_." And he meant it, too.

Suddenly, the mouse roared. " _Nobody calls me a bitch_!" Basil shrieked, returning Kyle's deadly look with a vengeance. Then he darted straight at Kyle, grabbing him by the throat. Basil forced Kyle backward, slamming him hard against the wall. Kyle bounced back and slammed Basil even harder against the bed post, stunning him.

Kyle jumped on Basil, slapping him hard, until Basil swatted Kyle away like a fly. Then Kyle grabbed a handful of Basil's hair and ripped it out by the roots. Basil let out a subhuman shriek of pain.

Kyle tossed the fistful of air aside and kept on coming. He was beyond pissed. "Think you can walk into _my_ house… _my_ bedroom…" Kyle slapped and punched Basil. "… _My_ child!"

Basil fought back like a tiger, beating the hell out of Kyle as they knocked each other around the room.

After pummeling Basil's face until it was bloody, Kyle rammed him into the adjoining bathroom door, which came off its hinges with a crash. Then Basil grabbed Kyle by the head and smashed his face into the bathroom mirror, which cracked.

Kyle was wobbly, his face a bleeding mess. As he collapsed, Basil dragged him over to the toilet.

"You're bleeding." Basil feigned concern. "We need to wash that off." He forced Kyle down, shoved his head into the toilet and flushed, holding him there. Kyle flopped and choked.

"Don't worry," Basil said, jerking Kyle's head up. "No, no…I'm just getting started—"

Kyle spat a mouthful of toilet-water into Basil's eyes. As Basil recoiled, Kyle tackled him out of the bathroom.

Basil threw Kyle off and got up, rose petals sticking to his lingerie. He lunged for the night-table and grabbed the bottle of champagne. Basil broke the bottle over Kyle's head.

Stunned, Kyle went down on his knees. Basil wiped blood from his face, circling Kyle. Basil's lips were drawn back and his teeth were showing like an animal's.

"So now who's the bitch!?" Basil screamed crazily.

Kyle lunged forward and tackled him. The two men fought on the floor like two demons, until Basil bit Kyle's hand with a force that broke his thumb. Kyle threw Basil off and shoved him headfirst into the bedroom door, which was ripped from its hinges. Basil went crashing down the stairs, landing at the bottom in a heap.

Kyle descended after him. "Did that hurt? …Because it looked real painful."

{}

In his office, Derek dialed Kyle's cell.

Tommi was snoozing in her car seat when Kyle's phone trilled from the shotgun-seat.

{}

Basil rose to his feet, his hands bloody. He charged for the front door, but Kyle beat him to it—knocking Basil aside and throwing the chain.

He turned and faced Basil with a murderous look. "Anything I do to you now will be in self-defense. That's how the cops will see it. You've put yourself outside the protection of the legal system."

Basil backed away as Kyle advanced. Then, without warning, Basil lunged and tackled him to the floor.

Viciously, he smeared blood into Kyle's eyes. It burned like acid.

That was when the phone rang, and rang again. The answering machine kicked in: **"Hi, you've reached the Charles residence. We're not here right now, but if you leave a message…Please wait for the beep…BEEP."**

Derek's voice sounded concerned. "Kyle? Are you there?"

Kyle threw Basil off and scrambled back up the stairs, toward the bedroom. Basil grabbed Kyle's sleeve, which tore loose in his hands.

"Kyle?" It was Derek, on the phone.

Kyle reached the top step just as Basil snagged his ankle and shoulder. Kyle was viciously yanked backward and tumbled down the stairs again.

"Kyle, pick up!"

Basil made it to the bedroom and grabbed the phone on the night stand. "Derek! Oh, Derek—Thank God!"

Derek reacted in surprise and panic. "Basil…!?"

" _Kylesgonecrazyhestryingtokillmeyougotta…!_ "

Kyle was suddenly behind Basil, ripping the phone from his hand and striking him with it.

While Basil stumbled back into the hall landing, Kyle spoke calmly—almost sweetly—into the receiver. "Derek, I'm right in the middle of something…Let me call you back."

"Kyle—"

Kyle hung up…and then Basil sprang on him.

{}

Alarmed, Derek hurried out of the office as Patricia watched nervously. He punched a number into his cell while running to the elevator. "I need to speak with Lieutenant Carlene Reynolds. It's an emergency!"

{}

Lieutenant Reynolds didn't pick up. She was calling State Farm, verifying a fax which had been sent to her, apparently by mistake, an hour ago. This _had_ to be a mistake, because Derek Charles' name was on it.

The fax was a receipt for two life-insurance policies, each for $1 million. One policy bore Kyle Montana's name, and the other bore Basil Sheridan's.

State Farm's confirmation came through. They had approved both insurance-policies, with Derek Charles and his adopted daughter Tomoe Aizu as the sole beneficiaries.

{}

Basil and Kyle banged each other up against the banister, the rail cracked. Fifteen feet below was a large glass dining table. A few feet away, a heavy crystal chandelier was suspended from the ceiling by a metal chain.

As Kyle and Basil clawed and punched each other, the banister rail broke apart. Both men toppled over the side.

Kyle reached out and grabbed the chandelier with both hands. Basil grabbed Kyle's belt with both hands.

By a miracle, it supported the two men. Suddenly, Kyle noticed that the chandelier was pulling loose from its ceiling mount. Plaster cracked and ripped away.

Kyle and Basil kept swinging back and forth, dangling from the chandelier. The ceiling mount wouldn't take their weight much longer, and both men knew it.

Hanging by one hand, each man reached out with his other hand to what was left of the banister. Unfortunately, it was too weak to support one man, much less two.

With a shared look of horror, Basil and Kyle fell through space. Their arms and legs flopped around, clawing the air like marionettes with their strings cut.

The fall seemed endless. Then both men hit the glass dining table. Their bodies buckled, as the table's surface rippled.

The glass shattered and exploded around the two men, framing their bodies, forming halos around their heads. The breaking of the glass would have been deafening, if either man could have heard it…which neither of them could.

As the table gave way, both men landed hard on the marble floor—their skulls cracked, their backs broken—as glass bounced and tinkled around them.

Then the chandelier broke loose. It plunged downward and hit the two men with a radiantly beautiful shower of crystals.

Kyle and Basil's bodies were splayed under the chandelier like broken dolls.

{}

Derek sped his SUV through traffic, desperate to get home. He ran a stop sign, narrowly avoided hitting a line of pedestrians. He ran a red light, narrowly avoided hitting a gas-tanker truck. The traffic ahead of him was gridlocked, so he drove up onto the sidewalk. Derek swerved to avoid two more pedestrians, hit and demolished a mailbox instead. Getting back onto the street, Derek sideswiped an ambulance. Derek made a turn at twice the speed limit, sideswiping a school bus. He sped into a neighbor's driveway, cut through their front yard to reach his own, slammed on the brakes to avoid hitting Kyle's car.

Leaving the Yukon parked on their lawn, Derek charged inside—and lost breakfast upon seeing his husband's body and Basil's. Only then did he hear the police sirens.

He staggered outside, both arms in the air. "This isn't what it looks like," Derek said softly, as he was cuffed up and read his rights.

Then Lieutenant Carlene Reynolds strode up. She said nothing, but just smiled grimly while waving the State Farm receipt in Derek's face.

{}

A week later, Derek found himself christened with the title of "Cell Block Whore". The week after that, he was tried and convicted on two counts of Murder One. A month later, having repeatedly been raped behind bars, Derek was diagnosed as HIV positive.

"Get over it," the prison doctor told him. "You're already on Death Row, anyway."

Tommi was getting along nicely as a Ward of the State; but for Derek, that was very cold comfort.

When the big day came, Derek was almost looking forward to it. As he was strapped into the chair and the prison chaplain performed the Last Rites, Derek whispered, "Great trick, Basil."

Then his whole body went numb as the master switch was thrown.

 _ **The End**_


End file.
